Edge of Insanity
by RavenclawPride06
Summary: Lydia/Stiles Prompt: 'When I'm on the edge of insanity, I'd hope you'd come and save me.' Warnings: Dark themes. Lydia tries to deal with… everything. Mention of suicidal thoughts. Disclaimer: I don't own teen wolf. My evidence? Season 4.
1. Chapter 1

_Lydia/Stiles_

Prompt: 'When I'm on the edge of insanity, I'd hope you'd come and save me.'

Warnings: Dark themes. Lydia tries to deal with… everything. Mention of suicidal thoughts.

Disclaimer: I don't own teen wolf. My evidence? Season 4.

Set after 03X09

* * *

><p>Lydia knocks lightly and pokes her head around the door; a once familiar action now feels alien and she decides she doesn't like it. Realising a second to late that he might have company – company in the form of Malia – something akin to worry coils in her stomach. Just this once Lydia begs the powers that be; just this once she needs him, alone.<p>

She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees him as he turns from his crime board to greet her, a smile warming his brown eyes.

'Lydia,' he moves towards her as she hovers in the doorway, feeling more than uncomfortable. He approaches, her trepidation makes him frown and defiantly catches her hand; pulling her over to his bed where he motions for her to sit. Satisfied she'll stay there, Stiles goes back to his spot in front of the board. If she could measure the carpet fibres, Lydia thinks, she knows where they'd be thinnest.

If there's one thing Stiles has come to fear, it's a quiet Lydia Martin. He keeps throwing surreptitious looks her way; his desire to say something gets stronger with each glance. Finally, their silence soon becomes unbearable and Stiles sinks to his knees before her; trying to snag her gaze. Her eyes never waver from the spot of blu-tack in its place on the wall; forgotten and alone. Lydia feels the pressure of Stiles' fingertips on her chin as he pulls her head down to look at him. She leans into his touch but his fingers slide away too soon and she is left yearning for something she didn't know she had been craving; human contact.

It breaks him inside to see her this way; a shell of the Lydia Martin he once knew. Confident, sassy, sexy, compassionate Lydia Martin; reduced to this because of _them!_ A side-effect of the world they'd dragged her into: him and Scott and… and Allison.

'Lydia,' Stiles tries to catch her attention, concern etched in the lines of his face, '_talk_ to me Lydia,' he presses. She has tears in her eyes but flashes a big bright smile like she does when she tries to hide them, and meets his eyes at last.

'Help me, Stiles,' she all but whispers. His eyes follow the path of one of her tears as it slides down to the tip of her nose and runs off the end. 'I thought you might know a thing or two about what it feels like to go insane,' she continues, ending with a shaky laugh.

'Thanks!' He snorts a little to lighten the mood. Inside he feels guilty, he knows he's neglected Lydia a little too often, especially recently; what with helping Malia and... Everything.

'You know what I mean,' and lowering her eyes, with almost a whisper Lydia says, 'the nogitsune.'

An unwarranted shiver traces its fingers down Stiles' spine at the name, even with the ordeal long over. Knowing everything he - the nogitsune - was doing; seeing through its eyes but being unable to stop it. Being possessed by the nogitsune had driven Stiles to dark thoughts, thoughts of ending it all, thoughts he'd tried hard to control. Even after the Nemeton; even after he'd been brought back from the brink of death by Lydia, susceptible to darkness in his heart he had never had thoughts like those; until the nogitsune.

Stiles looks up into her eyes, a frank look on his face, 'Yeah, I've been there alright. I know that I haven't been a very good best friend, Lydia, but I promise you all of that will change. I -,' _Oh God, you were about to say I love you. Weren't you! _Even though Stiles tries to convince himself that it was meant in a friendly way, he doesn't quite manage it. _This is neither the time nor the place Stilinski. _When he looks back at Lydia he sees a questioning look on her face and he realises he stopped mid-speech. 'I will always be here for you, anytime,' he rushes to get his words out. 'Okay?' he asks her and when she doesn't answer he demands, 'Okay?' and her small nod is enough to bring a smile to his face.

He tells her to wait there whilst he goes and gets them some snacks and when he returns he finds her laid on her stomach, leafing through pages he'd printed the evening before.

'Something doesn't add up,' she points out.

'Yeah, I know,' Stiles says, 'how did Meredith have the sanity to carry out Peter's plans?'

'Meticulously, and without anybody knowing, and why has Kate gone so quiet, just what is she planning?' Lydia remarks.

They spend two or three hours reading and re-reading all of the information; just hoping a previously unseen connection will jump out at them.

Lydia leaves a couple of hours later and that night Stiles tosses and turns. He can't sleep for worrying about her. Every time he closes his eyes he's suddenly aware of how _awake _he really is.

* * *

><p>Two days later Stiles' phone buzzes, he expects it to be Lydia – they've been texting almost constantly since Sunday; but instead the name Malia flashes across his screen along with three words: 'You busy tonight?'<p>

Stiles isn't sure what it is that makes him hesitate before he replies; is it his promise to Lydia? Or something else?

Malia turns up at his bedroom window less than ten minutes later. Although Stiles has tried to convince her that it's okay to come past his dad she insists that she's more comfortable this way. She offers him a small smile as she wanders into his room, perching on the end of his bed. Stiles' eyes widen incredulously, he's pretty sure Malia has never perched anywhere in her entire life. It's normal for her to come in, throw herself on his bed and sprawl across it for the rest of the evening. Quite clearly she has something on her mind. In fact, just the way she texted him before dropping in was unusual enough to warrant suspicion.

'I feel torn,' Malia says with unexpected suddenness. 'I never knew what torn felt like till now, Stiles but I think that's how I feel.'

Stiles can only stand there, staring at her with a slightly dazed look on his face; as if she's just hit him over the head with something hard.

'Uhh… okay?' He eventually manages.

'You see, I feel like I'm learning to be human again; but with that said I've come to being human with far too much on my plate. A deadly potential father, numerous psycho killers after me and all my friends, more exams than I have subjects and…' Malia trails off, seeming to stop only because she hasn't taken a breath in two minutes.

'And?' Stiles asks.

'And a boyfriend,' she finishes. 'There's only one of those things that I can take off my plate right now.' Her gaze meets his and transforms into the softest expression he's ever seen on her face. 'It's not that I don't love you Stiles, but I think I love you for the wrong reasons… and in the wrong way.'

Stiles scratches behind his ear, looking somewhat sheepish; 'Is it wrong to admit that I actually understand what you're feeling; mostly because I feel it too.'

Malia grins at how he looks, 'Just because you're the only person I actually like doesn't mean I'm in love with you.'

Stiles grins back, his chest feels light as if relief had drained tension he hadn't known he'd been holding onto.

'Friends?' Malia asks.

'Best friends,' Stiles replies with a smile as he throws himself next to her.

* * *

><p>Stiles feels as if he's just fallen asleep when his phone wakes him at two in the morning.<p>

Answering without looking he closes his eyes and groans a hello into the speaker.

'Stiles,' he shoots up into a sitting position at Lydia's voice, cracked and weary.

'Stiles. Please can you come?'


	2. Chapter 2

Heart pounding in his chest Stiles drags on his clothes from yesterday. In his rush he stumbles into his bedside table and swears when pain blooms at his hip. Praying his father doesn't hear him he scrambles downstairs as quietly as possible.

Climbing into his jeep, Stiles rubs at his eyes; clearing them. The night around him is misty and his engine has trouble spluttering to life. Finally, the engine gives a roar which dies to a purr in seconds and once again, he's thankful that his father's room is at the back of the house.

Slowing to a stop outside Lydia's house, he cuts his engine and jumps out. The front door opens quietly less than two minutes later. Lydia's pale skin glows in the moonlight, her red hair looks as if it is setting the mist on fire, and he is struck dumb by her beauty once more. She pulls him inside and is silent until they reach her room.

'Sorry,' she stands hunched over, she looks tiny; 'I didn't know who else to call.'

Pulling her towards him, Stiles wraps his arms around her, not sure what else to do. After a couple of minutes he finally feels her relax into him. Guiding her to the bed so she can lie down, he kneels beside her.

'What's wrong Lydia?' Stiles asks, brow furrowing.

Pressing her palms together to try and stop the shaking Lydia nods, trying hard to find the right words. 'For the past few weeks - well, months - I've been having nightmares about people dying. People I love; my family, my friends … you.' She looks into his eyes then, and all Stiles can see there is utter fear and panic. 'They're getting worse recently; almost every night and, well, it's getting hard to separate them from reality when I wake up. Sometimes I rush to school and I can't relax until I've seen everyone with my own eyes.'

'Oh Lydia,' Stiles breathes, covering her hands with his and sitting on the bed beside her. 'We have the tape now, and we know who the benefactor is. We'll figure this out, honey,' Stiles murmurs as he rubs soothing circles on her back, 'I promise.'

'Will you stay?' She murmurs from his chest.

'For as long as you need me.'

He sends a quick text in case his dad checks in on him '_At Lydia's, nothing is wrong, she's just having trouble sleeping. Don't worry.' _

Settling down beside her, Stiles feels her wriggle her way across the bed until her head rests on his chest. Stroking her hair as she slips into sleep he drops a kiss on her head before letting himself drift away.

* * *

><p>'Stiles!' opening his eyes, he wakes to Lydia Martin leaning over him. The ends of her strawberry blonde hair tickling his face.<p>

'From now on, I want to be woken this way every morning, deal?' he jokes, sitting on the edge of her bed for a minute whilst he wakes up.

'Thanks, Stiles,' Lydia says as she sits in front of the mirror brushing her hair.

'No problem.'

'I really mean it. Thank you, I haven't slept like that in a long time.' She sits fiddling with the tips of her hair. 'And I um, I hope this won't cause problems with Malia.'

'Why would it?' Stiles replies, with a slight edge to his voice that Lydia can't place.

'Anyway,' she says, changing the uncomfortable subject, 'I'm going to see Meredith today.'

'Malia and I promised we'd listen to the tape and see if we could make any sense of it. So I guess I'll see you later. And Lydia,' Stiles places a hand on her arm as she goes to walk out of the door. 'Call me if there's anything you need.'

* * *

><p>Later that day the Dead pool is finally destroyed. Thankfully no one is seriously hurt before 'ALL CONTRACTS TERMINATED,' flashes across the phones of all the assassins. Lydia has no idea what made Meredith so intent on carrying out Peter's plans; but it's only now Meredith seems to realise what she's done.<p>

Lydia is tired and though she feels relief, there's a nagging feeling in her stomach; a little voice at the back of her mind, so to speak. As the day goes on it only grows, and she can't quite shake it.

Stiles makes his way home, relief spreading through him a little more with every minute that passes. He smiles when he sees his dad's cruiser in the driveway; he must be done with Meredith at the station. As Stiles pushes the door open, he smells pancakes and realises just how hungry he is.

Entering the kitchen, he smiles at the back of his father's head, 'You're the best dad ever, I ever tell you that?'

'Never,' Sheriff Stilinski smirks at his son over his shoulder; placing the food on the table, where an assortment of sauces and condiments are sitting.

The sheriff raises his eyebrows slightly, 'no Malia tonight?'

Stiles rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable, 'we, ah… we actually broke up.'

'Really?' the sheriff hesitates, 'this doesn't have anything to do with Lydia, does it?'

'No,' Stiles says, 'it was actually Malia's idea to break up.'

'You guys are still friends though right?'

'Yeah.'

'Good, I like Malia, and she's had a tough time.'

Stiles hesitates before he asks the next question, 'do you like Lydia?'

'I like Lydia a lot,' the sheriff looks across at his son, 'I'll ask you again, do you think there's something there?'

'For me there's always been something there. For her … I don't know dad; I left when she needed me the most.' At that Stiles gets up and clears the plates, indicating the end of the conversation.

* * *

><p>'Lydia?'<p>

'You told me to call, if something was the matter.'

'What is it Lydia?' Stiles asks, a slight edge of panic creeping into his voice, 'what's wrong?'

'At first I was relieved it was all over but now the voices are getting louder. I know something else is coming, Stiles. We have to be prepared.'

'I trust you Lydia; I'll let the others know.'

'Thank you, Stiles.' She takes a shaky breath, 'And, Stiles.'

'Yeah?'

'This time I don't think we're going to get out unscathed.'

At that moment Stiles and Lydia lie in separate beds both desperately wishing that they were in one another's arms.


End file.
